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Surviving, Not Living/Issue 8
This is Issue 8 of Surviving, Not Living, titled Nightmares. Issue 8: Back at the house, Bobby began to grow tired of picking blackberries and starwberries so decided to do some snooping around. He placed the bowl of fruit onto the tablecloth and headed for Sarah’s bedroom. Bobby opened the door slowly, peering his head around the side to see a clean room with a made bed. He walked over to the bedside table on the other side of the room and opened the top drawrer. Two pairs of knickers lay folded in the drawer. Bobby made a gagging sound and quickly shut the drawer. He opened the next one down, it was empty. Taking his flashlight from his pocket, Bobby bent down and shone it underneath the bed as he held the sagging linen back. One object, a trunk, had been place on the floor. He pulled it out to see that there was no dust on it. One of the hinges creaked as Bobby twisted the handle and opened it. Inside, a thick book lay with two words printed on the front of it - ‘Photo Album.’ Shaking, Bobby opened the first page. The two pictures on it were of Sarah’s family, a dark-skinned woman, a ginger man and two children standing either side of a very young-looking Sarah. She looked tearful, it must have been the day she moved to America from England. Bobby turned the page and saw the next four photos. The first was a picture of Sarah and another woman with short brown hair in midwife uniforms. In the next, the same short-haired woman stood next to a brown-haired man, in front of them stood a small girl with blonde hair. A tear fell from Bobby’s eye as he realised who it was. His parents, Michelle and David, and Sarah, with his beloved half-sister, Amelia. His hand covered his mouth in shock. Bobby immediately slammed the book shut, not bothering to look at the other photos. Lightly, he placed it back in the trunk and slid it back under the bed. Bobby ran out of the room, straight through the kitchen and living room, into his bedroom. He shut the door behind him and slid down with his back resting against hit. All of a sudden, he burst into a fit of sobs. Why on earth was he crying? He just saw what his parents looked like for the first time ever... That’s a good thing, right? *** Across the state, Amelia and Sarah were still searching the isles of the Walmart. “Why did you even speak to me?” Amelia asked Sarah. “I mean, you think you were to blame over my dad’s death. Is the only reason you don’t talk to me because you didn’t supposedly kill my mom?” “No...” Sarah croaked. “Because, in the little memories I have of Michelle, she was like a mom to me, not just a step-mom.” Amelia explained. “My mom was a fantastic woman, not the foul-mouthed abuseful woman from who’s vagina I came out of.” The infected continued to bang on the front doors, causing the shoutgun to begin to shake slightly to the left. Unfortunately, neither of the pair saw this. Sarah dropped the bag off her back and began to put the little amount of water bottles into there. The plastic was all corroded and dirty, but the water would be okay once they filtered it. “I’m so tired.” Amelia moaned as she let her guard down, holding her gun by her side. “ROARRR.” The infected simulatenously roared as the shotgun fell to the side and they ran into the Walmart. “Saraaaaaaaaaaah!” Amelia screamed. “Get upstairs!” Sarah whipped the bag onto her back and headed for the stairs, leaping over a corroded body. Amelia met the stairs just in front of her and they ran up together. The herd of infected closely followed them, eager for their first taste of fresh flesh in years. Sarah and Amelia ran across the top floor to the other side. “We’ve gotta jump!” Amelia told Sarah as she peered over the bar. The shotgun lay on the floor, no infected surrounded it. Sarah sharply shook her head. Amelia sighed and forgot about Sarah, jumping over the small metal bar and down to the first floor. Sarah turned around and looked to the infected herd that were nearly in reaching distance. Taking a deep breath, she jumped over the bar and landed in Amelia’s arms. An infected followed her down, landing on its head and sending chunks of brain flying across the floor. Amelia jumped across to retrieve the shotgun before running out behind Sarah. Following the same tactic as before, Sarah and Amelia jumped from car roof-to-roof as the walkers began to dissapear into the distance. “Fuck my actual life.” Amelia groaned as she took one final leap onto the jeep from earlier that day. Sarah did the same and jumped down from the other jeep, hopping into the car. She plunged the keys into the socket and reverse the car, zooming down the road, back to the house. “At least we got water, that was our top priority.” Amelia told Sarah. “There was nothing left of use anyway.” *** Back at the house, Bobby had stopped sopping and climbed into bed. He layed with his eyes open and the duvet over him, staring at the bedroom door. Slowly, his eyelids fluttered closed as he fell to sleep. Bobby awoke, laying on wooden-paneled floor. He hopped up from his position and looked around. Several infected banged on each window of the room. Bobby turned around and shrieked. His parents, David and Michelle, sat in the corner, holding a petite blonde girl tight. “They’re coming in.” Someone said from the side. A dark-skinned girl peered out of the window... Sarah. “Nah, we’ll be alright. Just leave them time to clear off.” David spoke up. “Better to die now than later.” Sarah said as she walked over to the door. “No!” Michelle shrieked as Sarah opened the door, letting the flood of infected inside. Nonchalantly, the small Amelia crawled away from her parents and his behind Bobby’s legs. The infected went straight for Michelle and David, not even noticing Sarah, Amelia or Bobby. “STOP! SARAH! MUM! DAD!” Bobby screamed as his parents were ripped apart in front of his eyes. All of a sudden, Bobby shot up from his bed, breaking free from the nightmare. His room was now dark and the shutters were closed, the shotgun layed at the end of his bed. “It was just a dream, Sarah didn’t really do that...” Bobby whispered to himself as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. End of Issue 8 Previous/Next Issues Previous: Issue 7 - The First Time Next: Issue 9 - Suicide Category:Surviving, Not Living Category:Surviving, Not Living Issues